A Sociopath's Eternity, Shakespearian Sequel
by InzanityFirez
Summary: Othello has slain himself and Cassio is the General of Cyrpus. Iago has suffered days of torture and awaits execution until upon the near deliverance of his death blow, Iago is summoned by some force unknown to a world he has never seen: our own.


**Sooooo….I love Shakespeare. And I love Iago. He's a perfect, sociopathic, genius villain. He's also got the most lines of any Shakespearian male. **

**I am going to be doing Shakespearian imitation at some points with modern updates as I don't want this in play format, but otherwise, it'll be strictly modern except for the words of any Othello-ians that get caught up in the story XDDD **

**Enjoy~ **

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Blood trickled down a bruised cheek as a single eye the color of a midnight sapphire lifted before falling back down. The man's other eye wasn't swollen shut per say, but it was a pain to open at this point and he didn't want to get blood in that eye. The man's arms were chained above his head and he was struggling to keep from succumbing to the pain and losing consciousness. Why he even bothered, he couldn't fathom. He didn't care if they mocked him, they were going to kill him soon enough. And he couldn't fight, for he'd told Othello he'd speak no more and he'd kept his vows through the past three days of torture.

He thought it foolish, really. Ironic, even.

All of his scheming after Othello had so foolishly chosen Cassio as his Ancient, and in the end, Cassio became the bloody General of Cyprus and Othello, poor, misguided and lovestruck fool that he was, he murdered himself.

Honorable death? Ha!

Othello was a fool. A damned, bloody fool.

But Iago was the worse fool for getting caught.

Iago tried to reason where he might have went wrong and his thoughts strayed to his treacherous wife. If she'd only kept quiet about the handkerchief! His machinations would have gone unknown, his part to naught, and it would have been he and not that wretched Cassio who succeeded Othello! Iago was still a bit puzzled by Othello's choice regarding Desdemona though. Oh certainly, he'd wanted the other to murder her and make way for Iago's succession, but for Othello to have strangled the life right out of her… The Moor had had more passion than he'd realized. Almost admirable, until he'd gone and played noble and killed himself.

Perhaps Iago should have done the same though, and spared himself the constant torture as others attempted to make him admit his wrongdoings, to give motive. As if it weren't obvious. He'd been Othello's closest friend and confidante, and how was he repaid? Passed up for the position of Ancient to some sniveling, book-learning boy.

"Hast the prisoner spoken?" a cool voice came from the doorway.

Lodovico, cousin to Desdemona, stood outside. He had not the guts to dirty his own hands with Iago's blood, the priss, but he stayed around to attempt to glean information from him, wanting to humiliate Iago. As if it were his fault that Othello had murdered his bloody wife. Iago had sown the seeds, but he had not reaped the fruits, not in any sense of the word.

"No, my lord. His body is bloodied but he remains aloft from speech. He'll not break easy, twould seem."

"Twould seem." Lodovico muttered before turning to the prison door and opening it wide, letting light spill in as he surveyed the chained, half-naked Iago. "Will you not speak? You will a dead man soon enough be, speak your piece that you might find some measure of atonement in the world hereafter." he soothed.

Iago sighed internally before he cracked open his other eye, fixing Lodovico with an imperious look that spoke volumes of how little he thought of Lodovico, the tilt to his chin defiant.

Lodovico's jaw tightened. "Very well, sir. I would have granted thee a small mercy, a quick death, but I think perhaps yours shall be long and drawn out. Think well upon it, Iago, you will pay and dearly for your transgressions."

Iago said nothing, and this time, spared him not a glance.

Lodovico humphed before snapping his fingers. A guard entered then, cracking his knuckles in a show of power before fixing Iago with a gap-toothed grin.

"Ye ready, boy? This time, I'll tan that pretty hide." The guard sneered and seemed smug, thinking himself clever.

Iago fought back an eye roll, determined not to expression how pathetic he thought of them if only because he'd sworn not to speak and he saw no reason to give them the slightest satisfaction of response, however against them twas.

The guard seemed not at all pleased by that, and his eyes narrowed before he reached out and struck Iago hard. Iago's head jerked sideways and he coughed, feeling the bitter, coppery taste of his own blood which he spat out simply before he continued to stare pointedly at the ground.

The guard scowled and this time, there was a knife in his hand. The guard was dumb, was a bully, and he had no concept of keeping the other alive, he wanted to cease Iago's imperious, haughty stares.

"No, don't!" came Lodovico's cry, realizing the guard's intent. He had not the use for Iago's death, as of yet.

Iago gazed coolly upwards, ready for the death blow….

_I kissed thee, ere I kill thee. No way but this. Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. _

Othello's final words rang out throughout the cell and Iago's eyes widened as a flash of light overtook the cell…

And Iago was no more.


End file.
